Knock Next Time
by Waywardist
Summary: Dean has developed a wing kink


He didn't mean for it to happen (though he certainly didn't regret it). In the kitchen, Dean had spilled some food on his shirt, so he went to go get it changed. But when he opened the bedroom door, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared. Castiel was facing the bed as he pulled his jeans on, bending slightly as he buttoned them. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was still shirtless; his wings, large and black and beautiful, rustled at his sides, the tips trailing along the floor. Now, Dean couldn't move. He stood, awestruck, with a stain on his white shirt, staring at the half-naked angel. "So those are them." Dean said, his voice slightly shaky—only slightly. Castiel jumped in surprise, turning on his heel and staring. He looked at Dean with an expression of confusion and embarrassment, unsure of what to do. "Your wings," Dean explained, nodding in their direction. "I've never seen them before."

Castiel's mouth opened and closed as he searched his mind for words, but no sound came out.

"Can I touch them?"

Castiel blinked, shock evident on his face. "W-what?" He asked, his head tilting ever so slightly. Dean looked down at his shoes for a moment as if he were embarrassed, but when he looked back up at the angel, he was as stoic as ever. "Can I touch them?" He repeated, more of a statement than a question. Castiel nodded slowly, almost as if he were shy and self-conscious.

Dean kicked the bedroom door shut with his foot, walking to Castiel slowly, studying his movements with those eyes Castiel could lose himself in. He watched as Dean came closer, his heartbeat quickening considerably, the blood rushing loudly in his ears. Could Dean hear that, too? Castiel kept his eyes down at his shoes as Dean disappeared around his back, and then he felt it—Dean's soft, gentle caresses.

They started between Castiel's wings—that small stretch of skin that was so rarely touched. A shiver went down Castiel's spine, awakening feelings in him he hadn't ever felt before. And then Dean's tentative, soft fingers were running along the muscles that connected Castiel's wings to his back, and the angel let out a breathless sigh. Dean's fingers paused as the hunter realized the effect he had on Castiel, and then he continued his movements, running his fingertips along the angel's feathers.

Castiel shivered again, and before he could stop himself, he let out a small, breathless moan. It was almost as if—as if Dean knew what he was doing to Castiel. And with the sudden realisation, Castiel was aware that Dean was doing this on purpose. Suddenly, Castiel was a mixture of different emotions; he was embarrassed, infuriated, and he felt something else that he couldn't quite explain.

Turning, Castiel faced the hunter, and he felt as if he should do something—as if he should touch him—but he was at a loss. He didn't know what to do or how to do it, but he knew that he wanted to do it. Dean, recognising this in the angel, smiled almost mockingly, his hands moving to the angel's hips to bring him closer. Dean leaned in, almost as if he were going to kiss the angel, and Castiel at least knew what to do then.

Castiel leaned forward, pursing his lips ever so slightly so as to kiss the man before him, but every time Castiel moved closer, Dean moved farther. He remained inches in front of Castiel's lips, though he never let them touch, and it was driving Castiel crazy. After being teased for so long, Castiel's hands came up to grip Dean's shoulders, his blue eyes blazing into green.

"Let me kiss you, damn it," Castiel said, surprised by the frustration and determination in his voice. Dean complied, not moving an inch as Castiel moved closer. Their lips met, but Castiel was too rough when he pressed their lips together, and suddenly his feet were tangling with Dean's and they were both falling.

Castiel fell, in more ways than one, and suddenly he was on top of Dean—and Dean's hand was at his lower back and his other hand was running through his feathers and causing Castiel to shake. Dean's lips were as soft as Castiel imagined they would be, gentle and firm all at the same time, and his lips expertly parted Castiel's. Castiel's hands came up to knot in Dean's hair and when he tugged lightly, Dean let out a soft, gentle noise, and that noise set Castiel on fire.

As Dean's hand pulls at Castiel's hip to keep him close, his tongue gently runs along Castiel's bottom lip, enticing another shiver from the angel. His nails digging into the flesh of the angel's hip, Dean caught the angel's bottom lip with his teeth, nibbling gently, teasingly, and slowly. Castiel moans softly in response, his hips brushing against Dean's, and Dean bucked up in automatic response.

Castiel, once again growing tired of being teased, hastily pushed his tongue past Dean's lips, running his tongue along the hunter's. His nervousness was gone, replaced by hunger and desire. Dean shivered again, caught off guard by the sudden way Castiel took control, and he returned the kiss incredibly, his hips rocking subtly against Castiel's, causing the angel to moan with the friction.

Dean made a soft in response, and almost reflexively, Castiel flicked his tongue against the roof of Dean's mouth, earning a shiver. Surprised by the reaction, Castiel does it again and again, until he has Dean moaning just as rapidly as Castiel. Dean took control then, rolling them over so that he hovered above the angel, his knees pinning Castiel's legs down and his hands holding Castiel's wrists above his head. Castiel gasped in surprise of being restricted, his head tilting back and his back arching.

Dean trailed kisses from Castiel's swollen lips to his neck, where he nibbled and sucked until he left large marks. One of Dean's hands moved away from Castiel's wrists, reaching down and grabbing Castiel's thigh, giving a squeeze before he began to rub his hand over his thigh. Castiel's hips bucked up against Dean's, a whimper escaping the angel's lips.  
And suddenly a thought flashed through Castiel's mind—a confession that had slipped Dean's lips while he was drunk some time ago... Something about enjoying being the submissive one. Biting down on his bottom lip, Castiel wrapped his legs around Dean, rolling them again so he's once more on top of Dean. Dean looked up at Castiel, green eyes wide in surprise and interest, and Castiel ran his hands down the front of Dean's shirt as he spoke. "Tell me how badly you want this," Castiel ordered, his fists bunching up Dean's shirt, lifting it over his head. "I want this—fuck, I want this—" Dean said breathlessly, though Castiel was no longer listening.

Castiel worked as quickly as he could, trying not to fumble as he undid the button on Dean's pants, and then the zipper, and then he tugged his pants down around his ankles and pulled his boxers down, too. Dean sucked in a hissing breath as he closed his eyes, his cheeks flushing crimson as he felt Castiel's fingers wrap around his erection. "Fuck, Cas—"  
Castiel began moving his hand, slowly and teasingly, adding a twist at the end of each stroke, and although Dean moved to kiss him, Castiel didn't let him. He wanted to see every reaction that crossed Dean's face. As Castiel began quickening his movements, Dean's moans became far more breathless and rapid, and then suddenly his back arched and Castiel felt the warm, sticky fluid coating his hand and shooting up his arm.

Dean propped himself up on his elbows, gazing at Castiel with awe in his eyes. "Fuck... That was hot." He said, his cheeks flushed as he smiled. Castiel only smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Dean's. When he pulled away, he kissed Dean's neck, his lips lingering near the hunter's ear as he whispered. "I learned that from the pizza man."


End file.
